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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547705">one month to pluck your heartstrings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargent/pseuds/stargent'>stargent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ready or Not (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:42:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargent/pseuds/stargent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The rumor mill gets a few things wrong.</p><p>While Daniel may have appeared in her room that fateful day, it wasn’t to steal her away.</p><p>In actuality, it was she who seduced him; her arms winding like vines around his neck, lips tasting of ripe fruit, coaxing blooms from the beats of his heart.</p><p>A lipstick kiss the color of pomegranates on his skin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>one month to pluck your heartstrings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i am, and will always be, a sucker for a good hades/persephone vibe</p><p>title comes from the poem: i am not meant to serve by <a href="http://micaelapratts.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20poetry">s.a.</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A witty gossip article dubs the incident “<em> A Fall From Grace” </em> and slaps it all over the bottom section of their newspaper headlines, under some A-list celebrity drama and a pop-star squabble that went viral.</p><p>When she hears about it through delayed group chat messages and an email from her almost-sister-in-law, Grace is amused rather than insulted. </p><p>She’s not quite sure who’s fall they’re talking about: hers or his.</p><p>She voices the thought to Daniel over dinner. </p><p>They’re in a fancy hotel somewhere in the midwest, eating McDonalds on 700-thread count sheets. Her legs are draped in his lap, a french fry dangling from her fingertips. </p><p>He doesn’t bother to look away from the TV screen— where a woman is being crowned as a king drops to his knees to bow at her feet— nor does he bother to answer right away. He drinks noisily from his milkshake, straw scraping around the bottom searching for every last drop.</p><p>When he’s done, a smirk aimed in her direction at her unimpressed stare, he tells her he never had far to fall anyway; Alex was the beloved son, after all.</p><p>If anyone is to have fallen it's her. She, the blushing bride in pure white, placed upon a pedestal; an angelic maiden with flaxen hair and innocent eyes.</p><p>Grace laughs until those same eyes burn as he tells her this. She marvels on how they’ve all gotten it so terribly wrong.</p><p>Daniel turns to face her fully, the TV casting shadows across his face, framing him in unflattering lighting.</p><p>In this very moment, he looks every bit the scoundrel they’ve painted him out to be: a romance novel villain ripped straight from the pages, dark hair curling over the collar of his shirt, a radiating intensity in the depths of his eyes, his stare devastating and smoldering, his smirk dangerous and enthralling, the perfect sinister trap for a naive young woman.</p><p>She shoves the McDonalds bag to the floor and rises above him and his hands curl around her hips, sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts as he cups her ribcage.</p><p>With a smiling laugh, Grace bends down, her hair falling like a haloed curtain around them.</p><p>(When she kisses him, he tastes like heaven rather than sin.)</p><p>༚✧˳⁺⁎</p><p>Over the past few days, the story circulates, hitting the back pages of gossip rags and it trends for a brief moment on Twitter, only to be replaced by an unfortunate celebrity fender bender.</p><p>What’s printed is more or less a decent summarization of what happened; if not embellished in some places for dramatic effect. </p><p>Social media does its part to circulate the photo of Alex standing alone in his tux, waiting for a bride that would never show.</p><p>When she first sees the image, a mere few hours after leaving him on those very steps, there’s a pang of remorse that trembles through her. </p><p>Despite what they say, she is not heartless.</p><p>Wrapped up in her own thoughts, she doesn’t immediately realize that Alex’s handsomeness is a distraction, that the furrow of his brows and frown lines maring his expression do well to hide the fact that his eyes show no glimmer of sadness, no hint of devastation or shards of a broken heart.</p><p>(She sees relief in his gaze; wonders if it's a result of her own projected guilt or a reflection of his.)</p><p>⁎⁺˳✧༚</p><p>The rumor mill gets a few things wrong, however.</p><p>While Daniel may have appeared in her room that fateful day, it wasn’t to steal her away.</p><p>Rather, he revealed years of truths and secrets; no longer content to be a willing participant in his family’s lying game.</p><p>If she was to become one of them, he wanted her to know exactly to what and to whom she was signing over her soul to. </p><p>
  <em> Who her in-laws really were; who her husband would eventually become. </em>
</p><p>In actuality, it was she who seduced him; her arms winding like vines around his neck, lips tasting of ripe fruit, coaxing blooms from the beats of his heart.</p><p>A lipstick kiss the color of pomegranates on his skin.</p><p>They say she left Alex a letter, begging for his forgiveness; a tragic admittance of her sins, a representation of her deepest insecurities.</p><p>There was never any letter. </p><p>All she left was her white dress on the bed and a burned out cigarette resting on the windowsill.</p><p>On her wedding day, in the dim lighting of the hallway, Daniel turned to her with dark eyes and a troubled soul, yet it was her who offered him her hand.</p><p>(She hasn’t let go since.)</p><p>༚✧˳⁺⁎</p><p>They marry in the field outside their home as winter melts into spring and the ground remains cold under their feet.</p><p>Her bouquet is made up of wildflowers he picked for her in the early morning.</p><p>When she says ‘I do’ she swears the earth shakes under her feet.</p><p>(She tucks a yellow daffodil into the pocket of his shirt; the flower never wilts and neither does he.)</p><p>⁎⁺˳✧༚</p><p>He never asks her if she thinks of it: the life she would have had if she had chosen to continue on with her golden wedding. </p><p>No, he never asks; but sometimes she’ll catch him staring at her with those dark, fathomless eyes of his and reads the unasked question in his searching stare.</p><p>She answers differently each time; sometimes it's with the heat of her own body, the caress of her touch. Other times it's with simple actions: little notes hidden in his boots; a tray of cookies which come out burnt around the edges but perfect inside; a copy of a favorite book placed on his bedside with a pressed flower hidden within the pages.</p><p>Each time the tension leaves him and eventually he accepts her silent answers.</p><p>(The choice was always easy.)</p><p>⁎⁺˳✧༚</p><p>Summer is accompanied by an endless blaze; the days run hot and the nights carry a humid air which leaves an uncomfortability under her skin.</p><p>Grace discovers during the seemingly endless summer months that she’s better suited for the dewy mornings of spring and nights of blanketed winter snow rather than the oppression of summer.</p><p>Her husband puts up with her complaints with a wry sense of amusement; strangely unbothered by the sticky summer heat.</p><p>On a day that teases the beginnings of an autumn breeze, he offers her his hand and she accepts without pause, her fingers sliding perfectly through his.</p><p>The area he takes her is unfamiliar, a section of their land she’s never quite explored. A pond sits surrounded by overgrown weeds and briars, nestled away in a cave quiet meadow.</p><p>Daniel smiles at her and her previous irritation evaporates.</p><p>She’s so taken with him, with the way his curls stick to the damp nape of his neck, the few buttons of his shirt that he’s seemed to miss, the way he smiles at her as if he’s seeing her for the first time that it takes Grace a moment to realize that slowly she’s being met with more and more skin.</p><p>A ripple breaks through the tranquility of the pond, Daniel disappearing under the surface, down into the depths of an endless abyss.</p><p>She strips, quickly at first, needing to escape the confinement of her clothes, then slower when she notices him resurface. There’s hunger in his gaze, a carnal heat which leaves her panting.</p><p>A sleek sheen of sweat glistens on her skin, though the summer afternoon’s peaking temperature has nothing to do with it this time.</p><p>Grace considers testing the waters, considering dipping a single toe in, to see how she fares. She considers it— if only for a moment. </p><p>The water is a shock, a swallowing embrace that slides like silk against her skin, cool and seductive. She does not shiver, does not shake; she welcomes the abyssal chill with greediness, savoring the way it reawakens her.</p><p>When she comes up for air, all she sees is him.</p><p>(He may have led her to the obsidian depths, but it's she who makes the decision to become submerged).</p><p>⁎⁺˳✧༚</p><p>The seasons change and Grace’s boots crunch under fallen leaves as she rakes them, clearing the pathway leading from their porch to the garden they keep in the backyard. </p><p>Soft, crooning music fills the air around her and she loses herself in the rhythmic motions and the achingly raw story of a woman and her lover and a love that spanned centuries. She’s so focused on the task she misses the sound of a car door, misses her name being called, once then twice.</p><p>By the time she looks up, Daniel is standing at the mouth of the gate, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed over his chest. There’s amusement in his eyes, a gentleness to his smile, and Grace finds herself blushing, heat spreading to the tips of her ears, across her cheeks and between the valley of her breasts.</p><p>“Nice lungs.”</p><p>She flicks him off with a snort, then sighs when a breeze curls through the yard, sweeping leaves from the top of their piles, scattering them along the pathway once more.</p><p>Daniel chuckles and Grace is about to ask him what his good mood is about when she notices something behind him, a quivering mass that peaks behind his legs.</p><p>“Daniel, what is that?”</p><p>He sighs, dramatic as ever, and then steps out of the way. Only whatever is behind him scurries to hide once again behind his legs. Daniel sighs again, leaning backwards at an odd angle. “It’s okay. Grace isn’t half as terrifying as she seems.” She can see a great bundle of fur sticking up in various directions and a wide tail that thumps with a quickening speed as Daniel soothes what Grace can only assume is a dog with quiet tones. “Okay, buddy, I need you to come out. You’re running the whole surprise element of this thing.”</p><p>Grace crouches down, her palms sweating, every bit of her nervous and unsure. She’s never owned an animal of her own. Most of her apartments were too small or didn’t allow pets or Alex didn’t want the obligation of one. </p><p>The giant black blob sticks its nose out, two warm eyes meeting Grace’s and Daniel straightens, turning only slightly so the dog— <em> definitely </em> a dog or maybe a small wolf— doesn’t feel a loss of security but has a better opportunity to see past his legs.</p><p>It sniffs at her, tail thumping, and Grace holds out a trembling hand.</p><p>Slowly, with cautious movements that turn into stumbling steps of barely contained excitement, the big black ball of fur stumbles its way over, on three legs instead of four, tail wagging, sending more leaves flying into the air. </p><p>The pile to her right is knocked in half. Grace doesn’t mind one bit.</p><p>The dog’s nose is cold as it nudges her palm and after a brief second of uncertainty, Grace finds herself breathless, two paws on her chest as warm, sticky trails of dog slobber left along her cheeks as it licks at her with a boundless joy.</p><p>Her laughter falls from her lips before she even realizes, tears building at the corner of her eyes. </p><p>The sun is eclipsed by Daniel’s arrival. </p><p>Blinking up at him, she smiles, a blooming smile that spreads from rose petal lips to vibrant eyes and Daniel smiles back, calm and steady as a river. </p><p>“His name is Spot.”</p><p>Daniel’s ban on Spot sleeping in bed lasts less than two days. By night two he’s curled up on Grace’s feet, Daniel’s arm is a heavy weight across her waist, the symphony of his and Spot’s snoring filling the quiet nighttime air.</p><p>Grace smiles into the fresh scent of Daniel’s t-shirt and holds him just that bit tighter.</p><p>(Being with them, Grace finally understands this is what a family is supposed to be.)</p><p>⁎⁺˳✧༚</p><p>As autumn slips into the descent back towards winter, an unfamiliar car appears in the drive.</p><p>It's ostentatiously large, reeking of wealth, and stands out against the black tar of the curving driveway. When the wheels come to a stop, Grace stands in the mouth of the drive and remains unsurprised at the sight of Alex descending from his chariot.</p><p>“Grace.” Her name falls on a winded sigh; his gaze slowly moving up and down her body, looking for some sign of change, some confirmation to soothe his bruised pride.</p><p>She’s no longer the blushing bride hoping for a white knight.</p><p>White knights, she’s found, are vastly overrated and entirely too chauvinistic for her tastes. </p><p>“Alex.” His name sounds foreign on her tongue, almost as if she’s mispronounced it. She knows better now: never again will his name spill from her lips like a reverie.</p><p>He takes a few strides forward, hovering just close enough to touch, his fingers flexing at his sides and she knows he wants to reach for her— but whether it’s either to hold or strangle her, she isn’t certain. </p><p>She doesn’t move, just raises a single brow. Seeing him stirs a faint memory at the back of her throat, tasting of rust, like copper, like blood. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I needed—” He breathes out, tearing his gaze away to study the endless hills surrounding them. “I wanted to see if you would talk to me. You left without a word, Grace. You never called, never even emailed. Don’t I at least deserve to know why you left me on our wedding day?”</p><p>It would only be right to give him an explanation, some semblance of understanding. </p><p>Her freedom roars, trembling with a scarlet need to avoid the bars he had placed around her heart. </p><p>Shoving her hands into her pockets, Grace considers him for a long moment, then offers him a regal inclination of her head. “Walk with me. I still have some things left to do before the sun sets.”</p><p>Surprisingly, he doesn’t offer a rebuttal, doesn’t do anything more than take a jacket from his ridiculous car and join her down the well-worn walkway.</p><p>“It's been over a year,” he finally says, disturbing her quiet melancholy. She had been thinking the same thing. “Since you left.”</p><p>The air is brisk, layered with an icy chill that needles at her lungs. </p><p>Grace enjoys the spring, the bloom of life anew, but she craves the winter so much more. “I know.”</p><p>“I still don’t understand, Grace. How did he do it? How did he convince you to leave me?” Alex turns to look at her, the setting sun peeking over his shoulders, giving him an otherworldly glow.</p><p>In another universe, he might be a vengeful god; driven by a sense of righteousness he’s long since misplaced. </p><p>Here he looks like a lost boy, constantly seeking something that remains just outside his grasp.</p><p>She now realizes his love was no more than obsession; his desire a perfect mask to hide his need to control.</p><p>Grace tilts her head back, lets the fading warmth of the sun dance across her face. Light freckles have appeared across her skin due to her time in the sun.</p><p>(When they’re alone, Daniel kisses them individually, knows the pattern of them by heart; the way astronomers know the cosmos, she is his universe.)</p><p>“When were you ever going to tell me about the bankruptcy?” </p><p>There’s a flicker of awareness across Alex’s face, a settling of understanding in his eyes. “He told you.”</p><p>“He came to me that morning and told me the promises you made to your father...that you agreed to take over the company. You said once the wedding was over that we wouldn’t be involved in what your father and your family were doing.” Grace turns to him now, the twilight blaze behind her casting dreadful shadows across her face. “You <em> lied </em> to me.”</p><p>Alex’s jaw ticks, his anger a loaded weapon only a hair's breadth away from the trigger. </p><p>She isn’t the same woman he whispered sweet nothings to in the midst of his family’s estate; gone is her lily white dress and rosey cheeks and in her place stands a woman with iron in her gaze and her lips the color of winter fruit.</p><p>If he thinks she’s afraid of his rattle, he is sorely mistaken. </p><p>“He never asked me to leave with him,” she finally admits; the truth tasting sweet on her tongue. Alex looks at her, searching for any hint of a lie. “I asked <em> him </em> to leave with <em> me </em>.”</p><p>His brows furrow. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>“No, I don’t think you do. Your brother did a selfless thing by telling me the truth. He wanted me to be able to enter the marriage with a clear mind and a steady conscience. Only I couldn’t.” </p><p>Grace thinks of the way Daniel had stood, half in the sun, half obscured by shade, with his hands in his pockets and his eyes never meeting hers. She thinks back to his hesitation and his resolve. </p><p>It wasn’t the easiest option but he chose it anyways. He looked out for her.</p><p>“I loved you.” Alex looks at her and for a moment again she feels the way she felt before: special, treasured. It didn’t matter the secrets he kept or the way he tended to kiss her in order to make her forget why they were arguing in the first place. All that had mattered was he needed her, <em> loved </em> her.</p><p>Turning her head to the side, where the light catches the angles of his face, breaking the trick of the eye she has so often missed because she didn’t want to look close enough. Now, she finally sees him; really, truly sees him.</p><p>The spell vanishes, dissipating into the air, leaving her shivering and exposed.</p><p>Love is not a cold, callous thing. It does not take with greedy hands, clawing through the one you claim to adore, shredding through ribcage to the softness underneath in search of some form of absolution and peace of mind.</p><p>No, Grace has learned that love is warm; it is an anchor, a balance of give-and-take. It is both utter devastation and unending devotion.</p><p>Looking into Alex’s eyes, she sees only a brittle desperation reflected back. He clings to her the way he clung to the fraying aspects of his changing facades.</p><p>Running a hand through her hair, she can smell a change in the air, a storm brewing nearby.</p><p>Acutely aware that she’s let the silence stretch awkwardly between them, Grace turns to face Alex fully and feels terribly naive, besotted and nervous all over again. Because she knows what it would’ve been like to stand next to Alex and offer up her heart, wholly unaware that she would also be signing away her soul.</p><p>She knows now that she would’ve offered her heart and he wouldn’t have protected it, would’ve sacrificed the best parts of her to save himself.</p><p>“I am sorry, Alex.” She is; sorry for the both of them more than anything.</p><p>Another car appears in the drive; this one black, a vintage model with a black soft top that has been lowered, making the dark curls of Daniel’s head visible.</p><p>He’s wearing a pair of aviators to combat the inescapable beams of the setting sun and the lenses glint back their reflection. Even still, Grace feels his attention like a brand, a scaling heat that combats the chill of the coming winter and the promise of a sudden storm.</p><p>She welcomes her lover with a slow smile and receives a raised brow in response.</p><p>Alex stands unmoving, an interloper in a world unknown to him, and Grace catches the nervous fettering of energy he attempts to hide behind another curated mask.</p><p>“Alex,” Daniel steps out and considers his brother over the rims of his sunglasses. The setting sun casts upon his back, shrouding him in a shadow that seems to cover the expanse of the area. “What a surprise.”</p><p>“Daniel.” Grace hears the catch in Alex’s voice and she feels another sense of regret pool in her stomach. When he takes a step forward, Daniel immediately tenses. Alex freezes, then shakes his head, staring up towards the sky. “C’mon, Danny. I wasn’t going to <em> hit </em> you.”</p><p>Daniel’s smirk is a quick uptick of his lips that dissolves into a tight-lipped frown. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” When Alex sighs, Daniel shrugs a shoulder and loftily waves a hand. “Please don’t tell me our dear family sent you. I can’t imagine my presence has been terribly missed.”</p><p>Alex’s eyes cut away, an answer in itself, and Daniel chuckles though the sound is hollow and vacant and Grace’s fingers inadvertently curl into her palm. “No. I—I wanted to…see. I guess I wanted to understand.”</p><p>“And do you?”</p><p>Grace hasn’t noticed the way her husband has moved toward her until he’s there, a presence by her side, and she reaches for her hand on impulse. His grip is strong, fingers curling around hers, a steady hold that settles the nerves under her skin.</p><p>Despite the steadiness of his hold, Grace can pick up on the tightness in his eyes and while seeing Alex was uncomfortable, unsettling, for Daniel it’s well and truly shaken him.</p><p>If this was another time, another place, Grace knows Daniel would’ve been reaching for a bottle rather than her hand.</p><p>She squeezes tighter and Daniel’s eyes flicker to hers. When she smiles, a bit of tension leaves his face. From inside the house, Spot barks, bouncing from window to window, finally realizing Daniel has returned.</p><p>“You have a dog,” it’s not a question, more like a statement, albeit a confused one, “and a garden.”</p><p>Grace relaxes at the feel of Daniel rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, the reassurance is not just for her but for both of them. “Yes.”</p><p>Alex looks at them, their joined fingers, to the dog in the window, and the garden that will be sight to behold once winter fades and spring reawakens. Something passes across his gaze, the warning of a storm across the horizon. “And you’re happy?” He looks at his brother, then turns to look at . “Both of you?”</p><p>“Yes.” Daniel answers, strong and sure. The setting sun envelops him in shadow, the dark horse of the Le Domases; the unseen brother rather than the golden son, raised high above the rest, never to fall or falter.</p><p>Once again, the brothers remain on unequal footing. </p><p>Only here it is Daniel who holds court over his brother, because it is Daniel who holds her hand and her heart— he put aside his armor, his pride, and showed her what was underneath and she accepted him, without qualm, without hesitation.</p><p>Just as he accepted her.</p><p>Love sweeps through her, deep in her bones, curling round, flooding to the intimate parts of her, filling her chest until she’s blooming with it. </p><p>Alex nods, his stare mercurial yet indifferent, and without saying another word simply walks away.</p><p>The earth shakes under her feet and something aches in her chest, a sensation that feels like a thousand ribbons being pulled at once, stretching her open; she stares at Alex’s rigid back and with a shuddering sigh, she gives in to the acceptance of things past and things yet to come.</p><p>Together she and Daniel watch as Alex backs out of the driveway and takes off in a cloud of dust, never once looking back in his rearview mirror.</p><p>When he's nothing but a single winking speck in the distance, Grace turns her face into Daniel’s chest, pressing against the warmth there, seeking out the steadiness of his heartbeat.</p><p>The colors of the sky begin to swiftly change, a tornado of lightning and thunder twisting away, and Grace reaches up to touch Daniel’s face—  because something tells her to, something that sings in her bones — and he reaches for her at the same time, the two of them colliding.</p><p>(Together they are a single beating heart, full and decadent and without end.)</p><p>⁎⁺˳✧༚</p><p>In the beginning, Grace sees the headline as they pass through a small gas station, surrounded by nothing but cornfields and cows, and smiles. </p><p>She has to admit, they chose a perfect photo: Daniel looking down at her, all dark hair and a small wry smile as he attempts to reassure her nerves that his aunt only has murderous tendencies on full moons. Her, with her halo of braids and her eyes wide, trying to stand tall and smile wide.</p><p>“Big news, huh?” The gas station attendant asks her while chomping on chew, pausing to spit into a bucket that’s somewhere by his feet. </p><p>Grace shrugs, puts their drinks on the counter and the armful of snacks she’s picked up for this leg of the trip. “I dunno, seems like they have it wrong.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, lady.” By the way he looks at her with a dismissive stare, he doesn’t know who she is. Grace smothers her snort by coughing.</p><p>She buys the copy with a plan to frame it later on and place it somewhere where she can pass by it and laugh. Waving at the attendant, who’s gone back to his chew and the crooning country station playing overhead, Grace pulls the magazine out. </p><p>
  <em> A Fall From Grace. </em>
</p><p>The title is a witty quip, though wholly inaccurate.</p><p>Falling would imply she hadn’t realized what was going to happen when she made her decision. As if she hadn’t looked into Daniel’s eyes and known exactly what would become of her once she placed her hand willingly in his and chose a different version of ever after.</p><p>The title may be clever, but it ignores one pivotal detail:</p><p>She never fell, she leapt.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>shoutout to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterbones/pseuds/winterbones">megan</a> for being my beta for this, any spelling errors are all her fault.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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